Races
by DonaldDouglasandToby6
Summary: Thomas and Percy get a run for their money when Bertie and Harold race them again.


Everybody on the Island of Sodor remembers Thomas and Bertie's Great Race, and most people also remember Percy and Harold's. But Thomas and Percy often boast about it, saying the races are "grand events."

This can sometimes lead to irritation from everyone else.

The engines were getting ready for work one morning at Tidmouth Sheds as Thomas and Percy were boasting about to Gordon, Henry, and James.

"And then I raced past Bertie by Hackenbeck Tunnel and won the race! Everyone cheered for me!" Thomas grinned.

James and Henry rolled their eyes.

Gordon sniffed, not very impressed.

"Little Thomas, that's just pathetic. Racing buses isn't very memorable. You need to do something noteworthy...like me."

"I figured you wouldn't understand, Gordon. It is memorable, or else Sudrians wouldn't be talking about it. But I understand." Thomas smiled

"Huh?"

"I mean, you're the engine who can't ever win a race with Spencer. So I figured you'd not know very much about the art of racing."

The other engines giggled at the remark.

This made Gordon very cross.

"Shut up!" he spluttered, but nobody did.

He blushed angrily, but before he could say anything, Percy chimed in.

"I think Thomas is right. You never beat Spencer, Gordon. I beat a helicopter. A _helicopter_! Imagine that! And you can't even beat one of your kind!"

Gordon was so cross he couldn't speak as the turntable turned to Percy.

The little engine puffed away.

Gordon glared at Thomas as the turntable then faced the small engine.

Thomas merely smiled and quickly followed Percy before Gordon could say anything.

"What a load of rubbish..." he grumbled to James.

"It's kind of funny in my opinion," snickered James, "At least the parts about you."

"Oh, stow it James!" and Gordon puffed off to collect the express, with the engines still chuckling.

Later, Percy was passing by Dryaw Airfield with some trucks.

As he slowed at the platform, he began humming his victory song that his crew made up for him after he won the race all those years ago.

"What's that tune there, Percy?" asked Harold curiously, "It sounds rather cheery."

Percy grinned cheekily, looking over at the helicopter.

"Oh, yes it is cheery. It's my victory song, you see, after I beat you in that little race we had. The one back in 1956."

"And what about it?" asked Harold.

"Well, it just proves how much better engines are! If they can beat a helicopter, a locomotive clearly must be stronger!" Percy laughed and he went on his way.

Harold was cross.

"How dare him! Helicopters are better than engines. Everybody knows that. That tank engine is too big for his buffers, I say."

At Knapford, James was waiting impatiently for Bertie.

"What's keeping that thing?" James grumbled to himself, "He has to hurry or I won't be able to tell him!"

"Why do you want to tell Bertie something?" asked his driver.

"It's so I can help teach Thomas a lesson." replied James, "It'll serve him right. He's been getting more and more annoying lately."

Just as he had said this, Bertie panted up, about as red as James' paint.

"Sorry, James. There was a traffic jam at the intersection down the road." he said anxiously, "I hope you aren't too angry."

"Never mind that Bertie. You see, there are more important things to worry about."

Bertie rose an eyebrow.

"Like what?"

"Like how Thomas boasted about your race in Tidmouth Sheds this morning and told us that buses are inferior." replied James huffily, "Don't you think that's _rude_ of him?"

Bertie was speechless.

"What rubbish! I'll give that cheeky engine a piece of mind when I next see him!"

James' passengers boarded the red bus and Bertie drove away.

James smirked with triumph.

"That'll show 'im to be less cheeky." he said to nobody in particular.

An hour later, Thomas was happily waiting at Ffarquhar with Annie and Clarabel; he had just told them about his boasting in the sheds.

"And Percy even agreed with me!"

"Thomas, don't you think you're going to get into some kind of trouble for saying that?" asked Annie.

"Yes. Bertie doesn't take these things lightly," agreed Clarabel.

"Honestly, Annie and Clarabel. Nothing will happen! What does he know?" Thomas asked, feeling pleased with himself.

"You can never be too sure," murmured Annie.

"Here he comes now," whispered Clarabel.

A familiar red bus drove into Ffarquhar and beside Thomas.

Thomas looked over and saw him, pretending that his conversation with Annie and Clarabel didn't happen.

"Oh, hello Bertie." smiled Thomas, but Bertie wasn't smiling.

"I've heard what you said this morning to the big engines." Bertie snapped.

Annie and Clarabel groaned.

"I knew something like this would happen..." muttered Clarabel.

"...huh?" said Thomas in mock confusion, "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Don't act silly with me. Someone told me."

"Who?"

"Doesn't matter. The point is that I want to even with you, so... I challenge you to a rematch!" Bertie stated proudly.

Annie and Clarabel gasped.

"How'd... Uh, I mean, I didn't say anything. But, a rematch does sound fun." Thomas said with anticipation.

"Hold on, Thomas. We can't race today. We've got passengers to deliver." reminded Annie, "They don't like being bounced about like peas in a frying pan."

"Pah!" scoffed Thomas, "There's plenty of time! My passengers enjoy the excitement!"

"Maybe the first three times," sighed Annie under her breath.

"So, are we on?" asked Bertie impatiently.

"You bet!" replied the tank engine.

"Uh, Thomas-"

"Not now, Clarabel."

Bertie smirked.

"Ready... Steady... Go!"

Thomas whistled and started off, going faster and faster by the wheelturn.

"Thomas!" cried his coaches, "Slow down!"

"No way!" argued Thomas, "This is a race!"

Bertie honked his horn and drove away.

The race quickly began.

At first, Thomas was ahead, but Bertie was determined not to let Thomas beat him this time.

"I won't let myself down," Bertie smirked, "I won't- Oh nooo!"

Up ahead, Terence the Tractor was hauling a cart, and he was going very slowly indeed.

"Hello Thomas!" called Terence.

Thomas whistled in response and steamed out of sight, despite his coaches' protests.

Bertie honked his horn crossly as he had to apply his brakes to avoid a collision.

"Terence!"

"Oh, hello Bertie!"

"Now's not the time, Terence!" cried Bertie, "You've got to move! I'm racing Thomas right now!"

"I'm afraid I can't do that. I'm delivering some apples to market." replied the tractor.

"So what else am I supposed to do?!"

"Take a left turn," suggested Terence.

"Where?!"

"Right there."

Bertie looked to his left and saw a branching street.

"Oh," he said sheepishly.

Bertie sighed and charged left.

From the track, Thomas was a bit annoyed when he saw Bertie leave the road that ran alongside the rails.

"Bother! Now I can't see where he's going..." muttered Thomas.

Annie caught her breath.

"If you really want to race, I recommend not worrying over small things," she cried.

"We'll see him at the level crossing." added Clarabel.

"Thanks, Annie and Clarabel!" chuffed Thomas.

The tank engine brightened up, and flew past the open gates of the Maithwaite level crossing.

"Better luck next time Bertie!" Thomas grinned as Bertie was fuming at the gate.

But his joy soon turned to anger as he could see a broken signal up ahead.

"Oh, no!" groaned Thomas as he desperately braked.

"Phew... at last..." groaned Annie.

"I'm worn out," agreed Clarabel, "Thomas, don't go so fast again!"

But Thomas wasn't listening to his coaches; he was more concerned about the signal.

"Why have we stopped?" pouted Thomas.

"Sorry, but this signal's out for repairs. You'll have to wait," said a workman.

"What?! But I'm racing Bertie!" Thomas cried out, "We have to keep moving."

"Racing doesn't mean you don't have to follow the rules," scolded his driver.

Thomas was furious as Bertie popped out of a tunnel that ran beside the rails.

"I'm so glad us buses don't have to deal with signals!" he chortled he past, "We have reliable traffic lights instead!"

Thomas was too cross to say anything.

Meanwhile, Percy and Toby were shunting trucks at the quarry.

"Here are some trucks that need to be taken to Brendam, Percy," called Toby.

"Thanks, Toby!" peeped Percy as he was coupled up, but he suddenly heard the familiar buzz of a helicopter.

"Harold!" exclaimed Percy in surprise as Harold buzzed into the quarry.

"Harold?" questioned Toby.

"Hello, chap. Would you like to race me to the Docks? I've got nothing else to do." Harold said with a sly grin.

"Alright then. I've got this train to take anyway." Percy smirked, "You ready?"

"I was born ready."

"But helicopters aren't born," Percy remarked.

"...whatever. Alright... Get set... go!" boomed Harold.

Harold buzzed away, and Percy followed with his stone trucks, laughing.

"I'll beat you again, Harold! I'm sure of it!"

But Toby was worried as he trundled up to some buffers.

"Percy, racing isn't a good idea!" called Toby, "The trucks may get cross or something else might happen!"

But Percy had already left.

Toby sighed.

"Well, I guess he'll have to learn by himself the hard way..."

Percy and Harold were next to each other, with Harold in the air and Percy on the ground.

"You should just give up now, Harold!" peeped Percy, "I will win!"

"We'll see, if your trucks can keep up," grinned Harold.

Percy looked to his trucks to find them trying to hold him back.

"Botheration! Stop it!" Percy yelled and he biffed into them.

The trucks biffed into each other, each grunting.

"Ow, ow, ow!"

Percy giggled as he rounded a bend.

"Come along trucks. No nonsense today. No nonsense," said Percy proudly as he thundered along the rails, "I will beat Harold!"

The trucks got tired of being bossed about by Percy.

"We'll show the green caterpillar!" giggled the trucks, "Hold back on one... two... three!"

All at once, the trucks put their brakes on.

Harold noticed Percy's instant decrease in speed as the trucks held back Percy with all of their might. .

"Well, well, looks as if you're going to lose!" he snickered.

"What?" Percy burst out.

The trucks giggled as they felt Percy try to catch up to speed.

"Stop it! Behave!" cried Percy desperately, "Take your brakes off, just this once!"

But the trucks, as trucks typically do, didn't listen.

Percy tried to speed up, but the heavy trucks of stone were all against him.

All along the line, Percy went slower, and slower, and slower, losing the race.

At last, Percy halted.

"No!" wailed Percy, and he tried pulling the trucks again, but to no avail.

"Stupid trucks..." he muttered.

Percy heaved again, but the trucks' brakes were on full force, and Percy couldn't move them.

He watched sadly as he saw Harold fly away, towards Brendam Docks.

"No... I lost..."

A while later, Harold smiled as he flew into the Docks first.

"Ha ha... I won!"

"Hello Harold!" said Cranky as Harold flew beside him, "What are you doing here?"

"I just had a little race with Percy. I won, of course." Harold boasted.

"Where is Percy anyway?" asked Cranky, miffed.

"Oh. No clue."

"Well, he better show up," grunted Cranky, "He has a stone train to deliver!"

"I'm sure he will."

Harold smirked, knowing that Percy had halted on the line.

"Ha, ha! What fun that was!" Harold chuckled to himself as he headed off back for the airfield.

At the broken signal, Thomas was still waiting.

Deep inside his boiler, he knew Bertie had won already.

He sighed sadly, just as he heard a loud "Clunk!"

The tank engine gasped as he noticed the signal arm changing to green.

"Done!" called a workman as he clambered down a ladder.

"I can leave!" Thomas said as his fire was lit again.

"Come on Thomas, we mustn't be later than it already is!" persisted Annie.

"Right!"

Thomas quickly set off for Knapford.

"If I can't beat Bertie, the least I can do is be on time!" Thomas cried.

At Knapford, Donald was waiting crossly for Thomas to arrive.

"Where's that yon tank engine?" he grumbled, "I thought ye said he'd be here soon, Bertie."

"Oh, he will. He will." Bertie said.

As if right on cue, Thomas puffed wearily in.

"I... made... it..."

"Barely," said a cheeky voice.

Thomas looked over to find a red bus grinning at him.

"Thomas, I thought you could go fast!" chuckled Bertie.

"...yes but... not now... I'm too late..." Thomas groaned.

"Ye bet yer buffers ye are." grumbled Donald, "I hate to wait a half hour just for ye to arrive! Now mah passengers are late too!"

Thomas gulped, realizing that his race had had bad effects.

"I'm sorry, Donald..."

"As ye should be," huffed Donald.

The passengers angrily boarded Donald's train and he puffed crossly away.

"This better teach you to be more careful, Thomas." Annie scolded.

"Indeed. This was unacceptable," Clarabel scoffed.

Thomas sighed again, feeling quite upset as he thought over what had happened during the race.

Meanwhile, Edward was backing down onto Percy.

He sighed as he was coupled up.

"Percy, what happened?" he asked.

"I... well..."

"Come on, be completely honest," the blue engine persisted.

"...well... I was racing Harold and the trucks held me back because they were cross... So I got stuck," confessed Percy guiltily.

Edward let out another sigh.

"Percy, I think you should know by now that races can be pretty petty. You know that, don't you?" Edward puffed.

"I do now..."

"Come on. Let's get you to Brendam."

The tender engine whistled as he pulled Percy and his train all the way to the Docks.

Salty was there, and he looked worried.

"Edward, me lad, ye got Percy?" he asked.

"Yes Salty. Here he is," Edward said, braking so Percy was beside Salty.

Percy looked down at his buffers.

"Hey Salty..." he said in shame.

"Percy, what happened?"

"My trucks stopped me... I'm sorry..." Percy apologized.

Cranky groaned.

"Come on, let's get this stone on the ship before it's delayed any further."

"Good idea," agreed Edward.

Percy just felt silly.

That night, Toby couldn't help chuckling as Thomas and Percy backed into the sheds at Ffarquhar.

"How was your day, Thomas and Percy?" he asked, knowing from Edward and Donald that they hadn't the best of days.

"It was horrible," Thomas complained, "I was racing Bertie and this stupid signal was being repaired, so I was held up for a while. I lost the race and was late for Donald too!"

"I had a similar experience."

Thomas looked over, confused.

"Really?"

"Oh yes. I was racing Harold to Brendam, but apparently trucks don't like going super fast if it's not a runaway so they held me back so eventually I just halted. Edward had to come and get me..."

Daisy giggled at the story.

"Well, I think it serves you right."

"I personally think it serves you right for being such crosspatches to Harold and Bertie." agreed Toby.

"Crosspatches?" Thomas asked indignantly.

"Yes. You and Percy boasted about being better, provoking Harold and Bertie."

"Oh..."

"Hopefully, you've learned your lesson." added the brown tram.

"Believe us, we did!" panted Percy.

"We'll never boast about our races again," agreed Thomas.

"We'll see..." Daisy said, unconvinced.

The next morning, Bertie and Harold were in the Tidmouth parking lot, talking, when Thomas and Percy puffed up.

The two vehicles exchanged a look of suspicion as Percy spoke up.

"We're sorry for our behavior yesterday," the saddletank engine said quietly, "We were acting quite childish."

"Agreed. Despite that we won our original races, it really doesn't matter in the end, since we're all useful. Right?" added Thomas.

Bertie and Harold looked at each and other and smiled.

"Indeed," the bus grinned.

The four friends chuckled, glad that the four had each learned something about races.


End file.
